Finding the Time
by Technica
Summary: When the universe is at war, rekindling old relationships becomes a matter of finding the time or sometimes just making it. *Written Pre-ME3*


**Mandatory Disclaimer:** I don't own Mass Effect because Bioware does and if I did I would have too much fun making the characters talk to each other and would forget to have any gunfire whatsoever.

**AN:** As the countdown to Mass Effect 3 gets closer and closer I suddenly realized a lot of the ME snippets I have sitting around my computer may suddenly become defunct, so why not post some of them now before it feels too late? So far I have managed to avoid any spoilers, beyond the very basic concept of where ME3 starts, please oh please don't point out any inconsistencies unless it's months after the final game is out.

As always if you notice some spelling/grammar/punctuation errors or just have some critiques or compliments, please tell me. 

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><p>In times of conflict, Ashley often found herself at a workbench systematically dissembling, cleaning, upgrading and then reassembling her weaponry. It was her own personal ritual for when the universe got a little too complex to handle and she needed to clear her head.<p>

Unfortunately, she didn't get to it as much as she'd have liked, her rank generally meant that some other grunt got to have all the fun while she had to deal with all the paperwork and weight of command.

Still, she needed the comforting simplicity of being able to take something to pieces and have it all go back together better than ever to distract her from the exhausting way the galaxy kept throwing her new situations to deal with.

Sometimes she needed to see that she didn't just destroy things, that she was also capable of making them work again.

Annnnd... that thought skittered too closely to a conversation between two people long ago that she tried not to think about. Where quiet words had accompanied the click of an old battered shotgun she'd carefully fixed when her impulse would have been to scrap it for parts if it hadn't been _his_. She remembered the faint smile that had broke free at his compliment, despite her attempt to stay as professional as possible, the answering gleam of laughter to those dark eyes as he noticed.

Years later on a different ship, she found herself envying that woman, her biggest issues had been a rogue Spectre and the fact that she'd really really wanted to break some Alliance regs right there on that bench.

The scale had just went up and up from there. As an average marine she'd only had to take orders as her superiors suffered the headache of choice and responsibility. Now she was a Commander herself, accountable for so much more than a person should be: there was an Armageddon of Reapers hell bent on wiping them all out, they had to unite a galaxy of races under one cause and to add the cherry on top... he was here again.

Having Shepard on board was making her waver in more ways than one. He still had that aura about him that made people sit up and listen, it was much more subdued and sombre than it had been on the original Normandy, but she still felt it when he was near. Part of her wanted desperately to cede command over to him, to just follow his lead and watch his back like she used to.

He on the other hand seemed equally uncertain what to say or do around her, or if he should even try to give her an order, his usual steadiness had died down into caution every time he had to address her during the debriefing, his expression going carefully blank whenever she looked at him even though when she turned away she could feel him watching her with those tired blue eyes.

It was too confusing to be near him after all this time. She had to fight off the desperate need to just push him up against a wall and conduct a thorough inspection to make sure he was actually real not some fantastically cruel dream she'd just end up waking from. Mix in the illogical urge to just sock him in the gut and demand an explanation for the last few years and it was fair to say she would be giving mixed signals. Mostly however, she wanted to wash away the awkwardness between them so they could get to work saving the galaxy as a team, and then they could work out what else they were to each other when they had time.

The years apart had changed them both, and until they could work out a new rhythm they were just going to end up jeopardizing the mission because neither of them could work out what to do when the other was in the room.

So, all this drama was what sent Ash to the new Normandy's armoury where she could distract herself with adapting her assault rifle with the latest mods, quickly dismissing the on duty marine assigned to do such work when it became obvious that her presence was making him nervous.

She just needed some alone time to get her bearings straight.

Typically the universe had a different idea and with the automated hiss of the doors opening and the familiar sound of boot-steps, someone else entered the armoury and then stopped. Ashley sighed mostly to herself, glancing back over her shoulder to see who it was and she found herself freezing.

Shepard had showered; the torn dirtied uniform he'd been wearing on Earth had finally been discarded and replaced by dark combat pants and a nondescript white tee, the lack of Alliance insignia registering with a certain hollow sadness as she realized that neither of them knew if he was still part of the Alliance Military.

He looked so different while managing to remain the same man she remembered from years ago. Same dark hair in the same style, same shadowed stubble stark against the pale skin of a man who didn't spend enough time planet-side to tan, she knew the familiar slope of his nose, the line of his jaw and the slant of his eyes.

It was the little changes that left her off balance: the old scars that she'd known had been replaced by the occasional faint threading of tell-tale cybernetic orange, there were new frown-lines marking his face from the constant stress, and there was a gauntness to his cheeks he hadn't had before. He looked worn out; like weariness had soaked him to the bone and pushed him to keep going. He was missing that captivating certainty to his impossibly dark blue eyes that he'd had when she'd met him, the look that had made her feel _better than good enough _when he'd focused it on her, the look that had haunted her dreams for so very long.

It was also worth noting that her traitorous libido had pounced on the way his thin shirt clung to him like an invitation. That she was currently tracing her wandering eyes along his chest and arms, remembering when she been able to touch, feel and taste.

With an ease she really didn't feel, she turned her attention back to the half assembled gun on the bench before her and tried to pretend that every inch of her wasn't suddenly hyper-tuned to the man standing just a few meters away.

"Shepard." she winced at how empty her own voice sounded, she couldn't even greet him without feeling awkward.

"Commander Williams." He responded with equal empty professionalism.

For what felt like an eternity neither of them spoke, they just stood in this silent tension broken only by the dull reverberation of the engines humming beneath their feet and the sound of metal bits clinking uselessly around the bench as it became obvious Ash had completely forgotten what the hell it was she had been doing.

Shifting his weight from one boot to another, Shepard cleared his throat, a quiet awkward sound that made Ashley turn to see what he was doing.

What she saw made her heart do a little flip.

He was suddenly the Shepard she remembered. Straight-backed, head high and at ease in his stance, that steady confident fire visible for all to see, his gaze unwavering, and unflinchingly honest as it held her in place.

"We need to talk." he said with a soft certainty that made her want to move closer, "It doesn't have to be now, but eventually we'll need to, if not for our own sake for the success of the mission."

He paused, gauging her reaction before he dropped his eyes to the deck and rubbed nervously at the back of his neck where his bioamp rested, it was a hauntingly familiar motion from the old days.

"The thing is, I've never had much of a poker face. I'm not too good at acting like everything is normal when I have something important on my mind. So I'm just going to say my part and stop agonizing over every word and action I make while you're around."

"I want you. As much as I ever have and with a consistency that doesn't comprehend death, time, circumstance or change. I know we're not who we were and we can't get that back but I cannot imagine anything about the woman you are today that could make me change the way I feel about you in the slightest. If the Reapers are going to rain fire down on our heads I need you to know how I feel and how truly sorry I am for everything."

He looked up again, his expression raw and sincere enough to make her breath hitch in her chest and then he smiled, a tiny self-deprecating thing that curled at the corner of his mouth.

"You don't have to say anything now, I know it's been longer for you than me... but when you're ready, I'll gladly walk whatever pace you want to set, on whatever path you choose."

He let that settle in the air for a moment and then nodded, that carefully blank expression falling back into place again. "Commander Williams."

As he turned to go Ash managed to break free of all of the turmoil that had built up and she took a step forward, her arm flung out as if to stop him.

"Skipper?"

He stopped, tilting his head back to watch her impassively.

"I..." her voice failed her, threatening to cut out altogether as she let her arm fall slowly down to her side, "I missed you."

"Uh... Commanders to the bridge immediately. That means Shepard and Williams, I don't care if the Alliance says otherwise." Joker's voice called across the comms.

Shepard let out a short bitter laugh and rubbed at his face, "Typical, it's always Joker."

Shaking her head, Ashley walked the distance separating them and stopped just inches from the man she'd once claimed would always be her captain, she smiled sadly up at him, unable to process completely if she was upset or relieved at the interruption but certainly feeling lighter than she'd felt in such a long time. "One of these days we'll have the time we need, I promise."

She shivered as Shepard's gaze darkened noticeably, tiny blue biotic sparks arcing along his body and he edged ever so slightly closer, replying in a ragged whisper. "I look forward to it."

With a level of self-control she didn't know she had she pushed aside the urge to just kiss him, to pretend everything was normal and give into the crackling desire being this close to him instilled in her.

She stepped back and tried not to notice as Shepard's arms twitched like he might try to pull her back to him.

"Come on Skipper, duty calls."


End file.
